Page 82 of Native Hawk
Chapter 24
Catalina felt terribly guilty. Perhaps she should not have tormented Drew so. But it was just as much torment for her.
Before, when she’d thought of losing her maidenhood to him, it had seemed like a thing to check off her list of accomplishments.
But now she was gambling with her heart. She had fallen in love with Drew. And until she was sure he could be trusted to keep his promise to stay with her, she didn’t dare raise the stakes.
She fell asleep—miserable, lonely, and unrequited—realizing she was in a prison of her own making and not knowing what to do about it.
It was still dark when she abruptly awakened out of a deep sleep.
She threw back the covers and sat up. The moonlight was streaming in through the window, making a pale rectangle on the bed. Outside, crickets whirred softly in the summery night. The air was still.
But something was wrong. She didn’t know what it was or how she knew. But she definitely felt that something was wrong.
She climbed out of bed, slipped on her wrapper, and quietly opened her door.
Voices were coming from Drew’s room.
One was Drew’s.
The other belonged to a woman.
Catalina’s heart wrenched, even though she knew she was jumping to hasty conclusions. It might be Miss Hattie. It might be Anne or Emily. There was no reason to believe she wasn’t hearing an innocent conversation between Drew and one of the ladies of The Parlor…even if it was behind his closed door.
She couldn’t make out the words. But as she strained to hear, she realized it wasn’t Miss Hattie or Anne or Emily. She didn’t recognize the woman’s voice.
Against her will, her eyes filled slowly with tears of hurt. Her throat began to ache with a trapped sob.
It would be naïve to deny that Drew had betrayed her.
He hadn’t been able to wait until they were married.
He’d taken another woman to his bed, right under Catalina’s nose.
She told herself this was why she’d made him wait. This was why she hadn’t made the sex with him. He might make promises with his words. But they were promises his body could not keep.
Still, knowing she’d been right didn’t stop the heartrending pain of his infidelity.
It wasn’t fair.
Catalina had slept with Drew. She’d kissed him. She’d shared secrets with him. They had been intimate. She’d given him her attention, her time, her heart.
He owed her his loyalty.
As Catalina continued to listen to the voices, chatting casually back and forth while she stood in her doorway in misery, her sorrow evolved rapidly into anger.
Itwasn’tfair.
Drew had been so possessive of her—burning with jealousy at the thought that another man might have her. Did he truly expect her to feel any differently? Did he believe she would willingly share him with another woman?
It was more than heartbreaking. It was infuriating.
She drew her brows together, glancing at her nightstand. Drew had left his forty-five there. For one melodramatic moment, she imagined exacting revenge. She could use the pistol on the man-stealingputtanain Drew’s room…and then perhaps on Drew.
Of course, she’d never do such a thing—not really. She might be furious, but she wasn’t a killer. She’d never even used a gun, except for the accidental shot she’d fired into the floor of the salon.
Nonetheless, she couldn’t just retreat to her room to lick her wounds like a kicked hound. She had to dosomething.She quietly closed her door, shimmied back into her red dress, and swept her hair into a hasty knot.
